


the stars walk backward

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bad Puns, Crying, Episode Related, Guilt, M/M, episode 169 spoilers, not really sure what the mood is on this one tbh, pondering motivation and morality, rating is for minor swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 169!!!After leaving the burning building far behind, Jon and Martin talk.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 22
Kudos: 237





	the stars walk backward

**Author's Note:**

> _trust your heart_   
>  _if the seas catch fire_   
>  _(and live by love_   
>  _though the stars walk backward)_
> 
> ~ e. e. cummings, dive for dreams

Jon didn't let go of his hand until they were far from the burning building. Martin stopped, leaning forward over his knees and finally succumbing to a violent coughing fit.

"I feel like I'm hacking up a lung," he choked, forcing the words out between labored breaths.

Jon placed a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles over his shoulder, and sighed heavily. "I am...  _ so  _ sorry, Martin."

Martin drew in a breath, tilting his head up to try and meet Jon's eye. His face was streaked with ash. "What?" he wheezed.

"I shouldn't have-" Jon shook his head, guilt twisting inside him with every strained inhale Martin took. "I had  _ no  _ idea that would affect you this strongly, I should have listened to you, I shouldn't have- we should have gone around, I should  _ never  _ have dragged you in there-"

Martin was waving a hand at him, straightening up and trying to speak past his continued coughs, before Jon was even halfway done. "Jon- Jon, you don't have to apologize," he managed to say.

Jon shook his head, wringing his hands and shifting where he stood. "But I  _ do, _ I put you into danger-"

"I'm okay," Martin said. "I'm not injured, it's fine, Jon."

"But I shouldn't have- it's too high a price to pay for revenge."

"No." The word was firm and voluble. It sent him into another hacking fit, and Jon could do nothing but watch as he fought for breath, guilt pooling in his gut. "Jon, look," Martin finally said. He sounded on the edge of tears again. "I agreed to that, okay, and, and I'm  _ glad  _ she's dead, that was- was  _ horrible, _ in there, but you, you gave me the choice to turn around and I tossed it right back to you so- so it was all safe, sane, and consensual, ha." The  _ 'ha' _ came out wobbly, but Jon took it in the spirit it was intended and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, good god, Martin, really?"

Martin gave a little laugh, setting himself off into another coughing fit. "Okay, okay, bad time for jokes," he conceded. He coughed once more, and started fumbling with the straps on his bag. "Can you just- just help me get out a water bottle? I'm parched."

He chugged down half the bottle without pause for breath, and dampened a cloth with the rest to clean his face. He offered both bottle and cloth to Jon when he was done, and Jon accepted the latter with a small nod of thanks.

Martin took another swing of water as Jon wiped the ash from his face, then sighed, closing his eyes. His hands were shaking around the bottle. "Well, that was... intense."

Jon winced. "Martin, I truly am sor-"

"Jon, stop." The water had done him good. He opened his eyes and met Jon's, voice steady. "I've been the one inciting you to murder, I'm hardly going to object to you following through on it."

"Smiting," Jon corrected automatically. Martin smiled, though it looked a bit wobbly.

"Smiting, of course. I  _ am  _ fine, though. I agreed to go in there." He shuddered, pulling his arms closer to his body. "It was just... god, the fire was bad enough, but being there, surrounded by all those people losing loved ones..."

Jon's arms were around him before he'd even processed he was moving, pulling him into a tight embrace. Martin froze for a second, and then collapsed against him, breath stuttering in a shaky gasp.

"I didn't even think of that," he murmured into Martin's ear. "God, I'm sorry."

Martin shook his head, pushing closer into Jon's chest. "N-no, it's fine, I just-"

"You're not going to lose me," Jon whispered. "I'm not going to lose you, we're not going to lose each other. We're in this together, Martin, beginning to end. We'll be okay."

Martin made a choked noise. "Christ Jon, are you  _ trying  _ to make me cry?"

Jon nuzzled closer, pressing his lips into Martin's hair. "I think you're due a few tears, after everything."

Martin held him tighter, and sobbed.

~~~~~

It was much, much later that they started walking again.

Martin was the first to break the silence. "We didn't actually help anyone, did we?" he said quietly. "The fire was just as bad with her gone."

"It... appears so." Jon said. He paused, trying to decide how he felt about that. Vaguely disappointed, he supposed. Not terribly bothered. A hot flash of anger shot through him in response to his own apathy. "God, I'm as bad as she was."

Martin shook his head, speaking with tired patience. "No, you're not."

"She was right, though," Jon said. "I...  _ enjoy  _ watching the suffering. I don't  _ care  _ that we didn't help those people, I'm just... glad I got my revenge."

Martin bit his lip. "Well, that's not  _ great, _ I'll admit," he said. "But that doesn't make you as bad as her. You heard what she said." He shrugged. "She wouldn't have done a damn thing to stop this world coming into being, if she'd known. You, on the other hand, are actively trying to turn it back."

"W-well, I mean," Jon hesitated, torn between shame and embarrassment. "I have a, a  _ reason  _ to. If you weren't here..."

"But I am here," he said. He looked at Jon, a small frown tugging between his eyebrows. "And I'm not leaving. Like you said: we're not losing each other. So let's not waste our time getting bogged down in the what-ifs."

A wave of fondness swept through Jon, and he reached over to squeeze Martin's hand. It really was all down to him, Jon realized. He would gladly let the whole world burn if it meant Martin was safe. And he'd help set the flames if anyone dared to take Martin away from him. "...Okay," he said softly. "Thank you, Martin."

Martin shrugged, grinning cheekily. "Of course. It's what I'm here for."

Jon released a breath, letting a smile form on his own face and making a conscious effort to follow the shift in mood. Neither of them had the energy to keep up such a heavy conversation. "Hmm, and whatever would I do without you?" he teased. "My, ah,  _ valet." _

Martin snorted. "Christ. For an Avatar of the Desolation, she really didn't know how to deliver a good burn, did she?"

Jon was silent for a moment. Then: "That may have been the worst pun I've ever heard."

"Oh, come on, Basira's a hundred times worse," Martin laughed.

"True," he conceded. "And Daisy, god."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, those two feed off each other's bad humor, I swear." Jon shook his head, smiling in fond reminiscence. "When we went to Hill Top Road she made a comment about how all the spiders had bugged out."

Martin paused, letting that sink in. "That  _ is  _ bad," he said.

"Right?"

"Not sure if it's worse than Basira's constant eye puns, though." His nose wrinkled. "Or- oh, god, remember how often Tim would say he was 'stoked'?"

"And pause for laughter, yes," Jon chuckled. "Why do we surround ourselves with people with such poor senses of humor?"

Martin raised an eyebrow at him. "Because we're just as bad?"

Jon placed a hand over his heart, feigning offence. "Excuse you, I am delightfully deadpan."

"Sure you are," Martin laughed.

"I am!" Jon protested. "Sarcasm and tasteful wordplay, that's all you'll ever hear from me. I wouldn't stoop so low as to pun."

"And knock-knock jokes," Martin added.

"Well, yes. And knock-knock jokes. Which are very tasteful," he insisted.

Martin shook his head. "You're lucky I love you, you humorless man," he sighed.

Jon lifted his hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to Martin's knuckles. "Very lucky indeed."

When he looked up, he found Martin staring at him with a soft, gentle smile.

"What?"

Martin shook his head. "Nothing. Just... appreciating what I've got, I suppose."

Jon nodded, brushing another kiss across Martin's hand. He didn't know what to say to that. He didn't think he needed to say anything.

Martin already knew.


End file.
